Wheels of Fire
by I.C. Weener
Summary: How is our courageous heroine gonna flap her way out of this one?


" _This has nothing to do with me and I have no idea what I'm doing here."_

\- Miaka Yuuki

" _*screaming incoherent non-sequiturs and making Tasmanian Devil noises while pretending to say something meaningful*"_

\- every main character in the last 13 episodes of Gundam SEED Destiny

* * *

Nakoruru's entire body was on fire. Her spirit was crushed. Every part of her ached. Mizuki Rashojin, the immortal devil-shaman threatening to destroy everything she held dear, stood over her broken and toppled form without a single hint of weakness.

"You fight well, priestess. But you should have known you couldn't possibly surpass your precursor," the demoness taunted in victory. An altar of candles flickered behind her with the same spectral yellow hue as her eyes.

"I can't… let you…" Nakoruru cringed in agony and exhaustion as she struggled to speak, "…hurt Mother… Nature…"

Streams of chilling air wrapped around Nakoruru like invisible serpents. Demonic forces dragged her off of the ground and slowly reeled her dangling toes across the temple floorboards, bringing her within arm's reach of the immortal priestess. Mizuki's hand lashed forward and ruthlessly grasped Nakoruru around her throat, using a raw one-handed grip to keep the feeble girl from toppling back down.

Mizuki tilted her head in an almost curious fashion. She was studying Nakoruru, assessing if there was any reason she should keep this lowly mortal alive or simply tighten her grip and kill the miserable wench on the spot. Every detail of Nakoruru's complexion became a bargaining chip. Big brown eyes filled with sadness and fear. Black hair that stayed as soft as satin even when it was disheveled from war. Pearl pink lips that gave her a slight hint of maturity. A bit pudgy around the face, but that just gave her a certain added charm that all the other pretty disciples Mizuki had slaughtered over the centuries lacked.

"Poor girl," Mizuki shook her head in remorse. "You poor, poor girl. I don't suppose I could entice you with a second chance."

She released her grip around Nakoruru's throat, allowing the younger priestess to collapse pathetically to her knees. Mizuki turned her back on her helpless opponent and made her way toward the altar in ghostly silent footfalls.

Mizuki spent several minutes concocting something at her table. Nakoruru winced as she slowly rose to her feet and limply hobbled closer. She could hear water being poured, ingredients being mixed in darkness, and the hiss of steam rising. Mizuki weaved her craft deftly and dubiously while her long sleeves as a tent, so Nakoruru could never see what she was doing.

The older priestess finished her work at the altar and started to glance over her shoulder. The next instant, she was standing behind Nakoruru with her breath gracing down the hairs on the back of the shorter priestess's neck.

Nakoruru shuddered in terror. She peered toward the altar—now empty, aside from the flickering candles. She peered back into the shadows behind her and instantly found herself within inches of Mizuki's pulsing yellow eyes.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Mizuki said with a lying grin. "I only offer you this medicine to help you regain your strength."

Nakoruru glanced down at Mizuki's hands. The demon-priestess was holding a clay mortar filled with a dark red elixir on a bed formed by her palms. Her arms reached forward an inch to offer it to Nakoruru. Feeling like a cicada with broken wings who could be crushed under a tree at any instant, Nakoruru followed Mizuki's silent lead and took the bowl in her hands.

"Earth's Traitor's Tea is the only true way to test if a priestess is worthy to serve the gods," Mizuki explained to her softly. "The fraudulent ones die the instant the first drop strikes their tongue. The strongest ones become loyal mediums of the gods. I'm the only one they've deemed worthy enough to use their powers freely."

Nakoruru stared in trepidation toward the drink. She could see a lone crow's feather sunken to the bottom of the bowl. The surface of the steaming red liquid distorted her reflection beyond recognition.

"What will you have me do?" Nakoruru said in a lost and meek voice. Her eyes remained entranced on the bowl.

"That's something for the gods to decide. But would you rather take that chance or let it all end here? Abandon your earthly ties and let the gods determine your actions. A priestess must put her faith before herself," Mizuki said in a tone that was as tempting as it was threatening.

Nakoruru stared down in worried silence.

"What will it be, little priestess?" Mizuki pushed for her answer. "You have no hope of defeating me. I could kill you here and destroy your precious retreat with my own hands, or you can hand yourself over to the gods and let them decide the fate of you and your forests."

The mortal priestess closed her eyes as she hung her head.

"I… I'll do anything to protect them," she whispered in defeat.

Nakoruru's shaking hands raised the edge of the bowl to her lips. Mizuki watched with envy growing in her resonating eyes.

"Go on, dear. All you need to do is drink." The older priestess smiled in an eerily calming way.

Nakoruru couldn't gather the resolve to open her mouth. Mizuki gave her the last bit of encouragement she needed by reaching out and pinching her nose shut.

The girl drank the elixir in four big gulps and let the mortar drop to the wooden floor. Her eyes grew wide as she grasped her hands to the throat. She crumpled to ground as she was instantly overwhelmed with pain. Convulsing on the boards and groaning in agony, she felt an otherworldly power channeling through her body.

Her nails tried to mutate into withered black talons, but quickly returned to normal. Her arms felt like they were being slashed apart with shards of glass as a coat of vermilion plumage grew over them for a brief instant, and then disappeared. Her throbbing shoulder blades threatened to rupture from her back and open into hideous bloody wings, but her body still fought to contain itself. The power flooding through her was testing her, pecking at her weaknesses, trying to consume her from the inside out. But with her pure will, she was keeping the inferno at bay and making it her own.

It felt strangely like training Mamahaha to obey her commands.

She rolled on her back moaning softly. She panted in her sleep as her body came to rest. Without saying a word, she woke up from her haze and steadily climbed back to her feet.

Her expression was stoic, empty. Her posture was quiet, delicate, and servile. Her eyes glowed like dim orange embers. Her hair ribbon blew softly in the aura of heated air swirling around her. Her face was covered with runic red feather patterns like war paint.

Mizuki looked down on the smaller priestess with a proud smirk. Now the foolish girl would be a mere pawn to Mizuki's power. The only question was where would the gods lead her to attack now that she belonged to them.

Nakoruru answered this lingering mystery by emotionlessly unsheathing her wakizashi and pointing it toward Mizuki. The blade was magically lit ablaze in the girl's blessed hands. Her expression filled with anger as she stared straight at the immortal demon.

Mizuki's smirk instantly faded.

"What is this nonsense?" she shouted in insult. "You're meant to be groveling before me and heeding my commands! The gods would never abandon me for a miserable whelp of a priestess like you!"

"I won't let you hurt Mother Nature!" Nakoruru repeated again, this time fully revived. She was boiling with more determination than she had ever brought in the first round.

"And now that _He_ awakens through me, _He_ won't let you hurt her, either!"

Nakoruru uttered a feral scream and charged at Mizuki with her flaming sword.

* * *

 _Author's note: You thought I was just gonna make her evil, didn't you?_


End file.
